Sam
explains his reasons for what he did. An alternative route out of
season 2. Warning, this story does contain character death. But
it's got a happy ending, so maybe that will lessen the blow;)

Dear
Bobby,

Hi,
it's Sam. I've asked the motel desk clerk to mail this for me if
I didn't come back. Just in case, you should also be getting a
delayed email saying the same. You know me, I just wanted to cover
all of my bases. If you're reading this, I'm sorry to tell you
that I'm—well dead. It's ok though, you should be used to it
by now;)

I'm
sorry for the really bad joke. You know I love you like an uncle,
always have, always will. I just wanted to lighten the subject a
little, because otherwise, it's all very complicated. But that's
the Winchester way, isn't it.

Please
don't be mad at me, Bobby. I did what I had to do. No more deals
with devils either—we're finished with that. I don't want you
or anyone else to ever do that again. Their deals are crap to get
out of. Which leads me to why I'm dead right now. I have a
confession to make.

I
killed Dean.

I
didn't bring him back.

It
was the hardest thing I ever had to do.

Maybe
I should back up a bit and tell you what happened.

I'm
sure you remember the deal that Dean made in exchange for bringing me
back to life. I couldn't find a way out of it. I couldn't let
him go to hell for me, Bobby. That's for eternity. He didn't
deserve that. He's done too much good to ever deserve that kind of
suffering.

I
summoned the reaper that nearly got him in the hospital. I figured
she'd still be smarting over the one that got away, so I knew she'd
be all too happy to come and take Dean to where he belonged. I know
that's not hell.

I
had already decided that if I couldn't save his life, I was at
least going to save his soul. That's some choice, huh. Do nothing
for a few days and let the hell hounds take his soul to hell for
eternity, or help him into the next life.

I
wish there was a third option. But there wasn't.

Two
days before his time was due to be up, I drove Dean out into the
woods and we said our goodbyes. He wanted to separate then because
he didn't want me anywhere near when the hell hounds came for him.
He made stupid jokes. He made me laugh. He acted like it didn't
bother him. He tried to do what he always does, make me feel better.
That's what big brothers are for, right?

I
held on to him with everything I had, knowing that it was the last
time I would ever hold him and have it returned. We were both
afraid, and I couldn't tell if the trembling was from him or me.

I
just knew that it felt good when he wiped away my tears and started
rocking me like he used to do when I was a kid and had a nightmare.

I
don't think he even felt it when I slipped the needle in his arm.
The rocking just slowed and his arms fell to his sides. His eyes
closed peacefully and I couldn't stop crying.

Dean
was dead.

And
I killed him.

To
make a long story short, I saw the reaper. She kept her end of the
deal. I know she took Dean where he deserved to be, which was most
certainly not hell.

I
did ask her one question though. I wanted to know if committing
murder would send me to hell when I died. I wasn't bothered by it
if it did, but I just wanted to be prepared.

Surprisingly,
she threw me a bone. She was just so happy that she finally got to
collect the one that got away, that she gave in a little.

She
said that saving a life for unselfish reasons puts you in a position
to make it to the "good place"—her words, not mine Bobby.

Too
tired and frustrated to figure out her riddle, I huffed at her
angrily. "So does that mean that I'm not going to hell for
murdering my brother?"

"What
do you think?"

"I
think you really enjoy jerking us Winchesters around."

She
laughed in agreement. Can you believe that? A reaper. Laughing her
ass off at me. Then she did that fading from sight crap—full of
smoke and mirrors and the whole nine yards--and said in this mystical
voice, "a soul is worth even more than a life."

So
I guess that means I'll be ok.

At
least until the crossroads demon finds out what I did. I have no
doubt that she's going to kick my ass. I went through a lot of
spells and trouble to make sure that she didn't figure out what I
was up to before hand.

I'm
going to meet her tonight, which is when Dean's time would have
been up. And I know I'm not coming back.

You've
done so much for us over the years, and for that I thank you with all
of my heart. But I have one last favor to ask of you, my friend. If
there's anything left. Please salt and burn.

PS.
I already took care of Dean's body. His ashes are in the glove
box.

Love
Sam.

€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€

epilog

Sam
was leaning under a tree, absently picking at the ground beneath him.
He looked down at his hands to find the brilliant yellow flowers in
them. He raised an eyebrow and questioned out loud, "Why am I
picking daisys?"

Dean swaggered over and grabbed his arm, hauling
him up with a smirk, "Because up here, you just can't deny those
girlish tendencies."

Sam flung himself onto his older brother, wrapping
his arms around the shorter man. "Dean!"

"No, why would
I be? I'm livin' the life up here. Oh, Dad says hi by the way.
He couldn't come. He's got a date," Dean told him and waggled
his eyebrows.

"Wait, Dad's
here? Cool. And what do you mean he's got a date? With who?"

"Mom of
course, you idiot. They've been acting like they haven't seen
each other in decades…which they haven't, but still—" Dean
shuddered. "Anyway, took you long enough, Sasquatch."

Sam shrugged,
"Yeah, well, I was a little bit busy."

"Oh, that
reminds me. So what did you do with my deliciously lovely corpse?"

Sam's grin
grew even wider. "Flame broiled, extra crispy."

Dean smacked him
then grinned. "And yours?"

"I uh, I'm
hoping that Bobby will take care of that."

"And how is he
supposed to know, college-boy? Cause I'm guessin' you didn't
tell him what you were up to."

Sam bristled
defensively, "I sent him a note."

"Yeah, what's
it say? Dear Bobby, please salt and burn…"

"Something
like that," Sam admitted with a smirk as he strolled along side of
his brother. He suddenly noticed the double-edged sword swinging
from Dean's hip. "Hey, why do you have that?"

The shorter man
stopped abruptly, turning his body so that the sword would no longer
be easily visible behind his legs. His face burned red with guilt.
"Have what?"

Sam gestured
around him and raised an eyebrow. "The sword Dean? I thought all
of this meant we were done with hunting?"

Dean sighed
loudly before shrugging. He could never fool his brother, so he may
as well tell the truth. "You can, Sammy. But we left a huge mess
down there when the gate was opened. So I asked them if I could go
back and help. They said yes, on occasion. In fact, I was headed
down to annoy you when I got word that you were coming up here to
annoy me instead."

Sam bit his lip
hesitantly. "But what if something happens while you're down
there. What if—"

"Awe, Sammy.
Don't worry. There's no danger of me not coming back. I'll
have a human form again, so I could be hurt or killed. But then
somebody just hits the reset button, I come back up here to relax and
rejuvenate. Then I can go back down and kick some demon butt again.
It's a sweet deal."

Sam nodded in
understanding, so Dean reached out and gripped his shoulder before
turning to walk away. "So I'll see you around little brother."

The older man
got no further than 10 steps before the younger of the two called him
back. "Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?"

Sam pointed to
the sword, "You got another one of those?"

AN:
I'm thinking about continuing with Dean and/or Bobby's point of
view. Or maybe their new adventures. What do you think?

See,
it wasn't as sad as you thought it would be…right? ;)

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.